What The Heart Knows
by Karevsanatomy
Summary: The heart has a way of knowing things that the mind cannot comprehend. It knows fear. It knows hope. It knows love. MerDer, Lexzie, Gizzie, Gallie, Maddison. Meredith, Derek, Alex, Izzie, George, Callie, Mark, Addison, Cristina
1. Tired

Prologue

_The night sky seemed to stretch for miles, the stars twinkling like diamonds laid upon black velvet. The moon was a perfect sphere, casting a soft glow upon the world. Crickets sang their song somewhere in the night, various other nocturnal creatures chiming in upon occasion. The scent of roses clung to the air, along with a hint of jasmine. It was, in truth, the perfect night. For what wasn't apparent. One did not question a perfect night by pondering what the night was perfect for. One simply enjoyed. _

_Closing her eyes, she let the perfect night swirl around her, not caring that the slight breeze was on the cool side. Perhaps it only felt cool, as the white dress she wore was more conducive of a day in the sun, rather than a perfect night. Not that it much mattered. In that moment, nothing mattered. _

_In the distance, the form of a man appears. He seems to emerge from the night. A faceless stranger that makes her heart beat faster. There was a connection between them. An undeniable pull. As strong as the pull was, the closer she drew to him, the more he seemed to fade into the night. A lesser person would ignore the pull, would admit that sometimes love was just not meant to be. There was no doubt that what she felt for the faceless man was love. It seemed to burn deep within her soul. Reaching out a hand, she calls for him to wait, that she loves him. The man turns, his face taking form. He whisper's her name. The voice is one she knows, but cannot quite place, although she knows she should be able to. He says her name again, this time bit louder, his voice taking on a more feminine pitch. She frowns slightly when her name is repeated once more, this time the voice most definitely feminine…_

"Izzie!"

A pair of large brown eyes flies open. The perfect night disappears, in its place is a rather dismal break room with cracked Formica table and split plastic chairs. Disinfectant took the place of the sweet smelling flowers. And, instead of the love of her life, one Dr. Meredith Grey stands before her, a hand braced on the door jam on either side of her.

"Were you sleeping?"

It was a fair question. More than fair given the state Meredith had found her in. Dr. Izzie Stevens smiles sheepishly, her cheeks flushing. "I was just resting my eyes." Even to her own ears the answer sounded weak.

Meredith laughs. "Right. You were so sleeping." Pulling out a chair across the table, she sits. A soft sigh escapes her lips. "Don't let Bailey catch you."

"I won't. Besides, I wasn't sleeping. I was…"

"Just resting your eyes," Meredith interrupts. "Right. That is what we all say. How long have you been here?" She slumps, the sound of aged plastic creaking filling the room.

Izzie frowns, trying to recall the exact time she had come in. It had been yesterday, she knew that much. "I don't know. Sixteen, maybe seventeen hours. Why?"

"Why? She asks why. Izzie, you know why. You know the rules." Meredith shakes her head, dark blonde hair falling over her face. She blows the unruly waves out of her face, laughing when they fall back in her eyes.

"Rules. Right. Like we can really afford to follow the rules." Izzie stifles a yawn. It was a rat race, this thing they called life. If they wanted to get ahead, they couldn't take the time to ponder whether or not they were following rules set by some high faulting board member who never stepped outside their comfy cozy office. She starts to say something more; to tell Meredith what she really thought of the rules when the high pitched shrill of a beeper fills the room. Both women reach for the small, rectangles attached to their scrub pants. "It's mine," she holds the black pager up, pinched between her thumb and forefinger, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Meredith smiles, her mouth poised to make some catty remark about better Izzie than her when the annoying beep fills the air again. "Looks like it's both of us."

"Fun, fun, fun," Izzie mutters as she follows Meredith out into the hallway. It was a mad-house compared to the relative quiet of the break room. Tired, over worked nurses rushed in an attempt to fill orders placed by exhausted doctors. Frazzled attendings scourer an already crowded board to fit in one more surgery.

"Dr. Stevens!"

Turning, Izzie almost collides with Olivia. The petite red-headed nurse stands there a moment, trying to catch her breath. The dark circles under her eyes say she is just as exhausted. "Room 2213 needs permission to eat solids. Room 2467 has spiked another fever, and the area immediately around the incision is red and warm to the touch. There also seems to be more swelling than normal. The man we released this morning from 2219 is back. Came in through the Clinic. Reopened his incision. Oh, and we have a new admit, 2157. Looks like it's a broken arm. Which I know belongs to Ortho, but none of them are answering their pages. So…"She trails off as she pauses to take a breath.

"Typical," Izzie mutters. Holding her hand out, she motions for Olivia to hand her the charts. Not waiting to see if the rather annoying nurse is following, she starts down the hallway. Ortho was always busy. 'Busy having babies with my best friend,' she thinks bitterly. Ex-best friend, if she was really honest. There were words said that neither George nor her could take back. If she was brutally honest, she wasn't even certain she wanted to take them back. Callie was wrong for George. Just plain wrong. She couldn't figure out what George seen in her. The other women he had dated, Olivia being one of them, were small, needy. Callie was larger than life, dominating; controlling.

"Several construction workers fell off some scaffolding," Olivia says hesitantly. "Lot's of broken bones."

Izzie looks over her shoulder, her annoyance written on her face. Wasn't it just typical that Olivia would defend Callie? Neither woman was good enough for George. Olivia had given him syphilis; Callie had strong armed him into marriage, and then sealed the deal by getting pregnant right away. 'And whose to say that baby even belongs to George,' she silently complains. 'Everyone knows that Callie hopped from George's bed to Dr. Sloan's, then back to George's.' She wasn't certain if everyone knew that tid bit of information or not. She knew, though.

"I'm just saying…they're busy. Not that you're not busy. Clearly, you're busy. Just…" Olivia sighs, realizing there was no getting through to Izzie.

"Not as busy?" The question oozed with sarcasm. There were days she appreciated nurse, the hospital wouldn't run properly without them. Then, there were days, like today, that she had to question their mentality. Flipping open a chart, she frowns. "What's wrong with room 2215 again?"

"2213, and there isn't anything wrong with them. I need you to sign off on her eating solids. The poor woman has been on an oh so wonderful liquid diet. For two weeks. She can't go home unless her bowels are moving properly. Her bowels can't move properly if she's eating green jello." It was Olivia's turn to drip sarcasm.

Izzie bites her tongue to keep from making a comment that would earn her a trip to the Chief's office. She scribbles her name on the appropriate form, slapping the chart shut. Tossing it toward Olivia, she narrows her eyes. "There. Now your patient can eat something other than green jello."

Pushing open the door to room 2157. If the woman really did have a broken arm it would need set. No point in taking her frustrations and exhaustion out on a patient. "Good afternoon Mrs. Gonzales. I'm Dr. Stevens. Let's take a look at that arm."

So it began. Another five hours of making the rounds. It seemed that around every corner was another case screaming her name. It was as though she was the only doctor capable of answering pages. This wasn't true. The others were just as busy. A glance at the board had told her that Cristina was in OR 9 with Dr. Burke, removing part of a man's lung. Meredith was in OR 2 with Dr. Bailey. Repairing damage done to some man's abdomen. One of the infamous construction workers that had fallen. The only two missing from the board had been George and Alex. George was in the Pit. He had been assigned there earlier. Alex could be anywhere. She had seen him a few times. Always in the middle of something.

Sinking onto a toilet stool, a sigh of relief escapes her lips. She tries not to laugh. Answering the call of nature served a double purpose. Eliminate the fullness of her bladder and give her feet a much needed rest. Flushing, she shoulders the stall door open. She stops short when she sees Cristina leaning toward the mirror, applying a thin coat of pale pink lipstick. "Don't tell me you're actually going someplace that doesn't reek of disinfectant or bodily fluids."

"Some of us actually have lives." Cristina uses the tip of her pinky finger to remove a bit of lipstick from her front teeth.

"I have a life," Izzie protests. Soap runs off her hands and into the sink. She watches the white bubbles disappear down the drain. There one moment, gone the next.

"Keep telling yourself that," Cristina rubs her lips together, dropping the tube into the small cosmetic bag sitting on the ledge over the sink.

"Keep telling whose self what? Someone fill me in." Meredith shuffles in, heading for the nearest stall.

"Izzie. She thinks she has a life. I told her to keep telling herself that. Who knows, maybe one day," Cristina grins over at her, "if you say it enough, it'll happen."

"Ha-ha. I have a life. Ask Meredith." The only reply they received was the sound of the toilet flushing. Crossing her arms, she stares at her rather haggard looking roommate. Meredith gives her a rather sad looking smile. "Oh come on! Meredith!"

"I'm sorry! You don't really have much of a life. At least not outside of the hospital, anyways." Meredith pumps some soap into the palm of her hand, then twists the water on with the other. She glances over at Izzie while she scrubs. "You never go anywhere. It's here or home."

"See. No life," Cristina shakes her head, tousling her dark curls into some resemblance of a hair do. "You should let me set you up with one of Burke's friends."

"Burke has friends that work here?" Meredith raises one perfectly arched eye-brow, shaking her damp hands over the sink.

"Yeah. Some guys he plays with. There is one, Gordon. He's a trumpet player. Gorgeous. Has these intense green eyes and this voice that makes a woman go all ooey and gooey inside." She shivers to prove her point.

Izzie resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Thanks, but no. I'm perfectly happy. I don't need some green eyed panty dropper to feel like I have a purpose."

"Yeah, but it wouldn't hurt. Guaranteed to get laid at least once," Meredith teases, flicking her still damp fingers in Izzie and Cristina's direction. Izzie shakes her head. "Fine. Don't get a little something something with Burke's sexy green eyed trumpet playing friend. At least come hang out with Derek and me tonight."

"Right. Playing third wheel to you and McDreamy is exactly how I want to spend my one and only night off." Even as she said the words, it was tempting to do just that. Anything not to sit home alone. She frowns. Was that what her life had come to? Being the third wheel on her roommate's dates? How pathetic she had become.

"Alex will be there. We're just having drinks at Joe's." Meredith's soft blue eyes plead with her. She bites her lip. "Come on. It'll be fun. Kind of like old times."

Old times. Meaning before she had fallen for Denny. Before Denny had died. Before she had fallen into this depressive routine she called life. "Okay. Fine. I'll meet you at Joe's. But," she adds when Meredith grins, "I'm going home first. I need a shower."

"Yeah you do." Cristina yelps when Meredith pinches her arm. She rubs the offended spot, scowling. "What? She said it first. I was only agreeing with her."

Meredith shakes her head and then smiles at Izzie. "Eight o'clock?"

Izzie nods before exiting the bathroom. Pushing her hair off her face, she almost collides with Bailey. "Sorry," she mumbles, not bothering to cover her yawn. There was no point in pretending she wasn't walking around in a sleep deprived haze.

"How long have you been here Stevens?" Crossing her arms, Bailey stares at her, a frown on her deceptively sweet looking face. There was nothing remotely sweet about Bailey. The woman had the well earned nick-name The Nazi.

"Um, around twenty-six hours?" She had lost count. Who knew how long she had been there. She certainly had no clue. The only coherent thought she could process was bed.

"Home. Now." Bailey shakes her head as walking off. Izzie let's out a sigh of relief. Part of her had been afraid she would have to pull another shift. Not that she would have lasted another shift. She had no idea how she was going to stay awake long enough to have those drinks at Joe's with Derek, Meredith, and Alex. Agreeing to go had been stupid.

'So tell her you can't go,' a small voice in her head suggests. The voice belonged to that small part of her that wouldn't let go of Denny. That voice was what kept her from moving on. Every step she took toward living life without him, that voice was there, reminding her that Denny was gone.

Slamming her locker shut, she methodically changes into a pair of low rise faded jeans and tiny white t-shirt. The two didn't meet, leaving a strip of tan skin and a butterfly tattoo exposed. A few feet away George stood staring into his locker. She wanted to beg him to stop being so childish. So she didn't get along with his wife, that didn't mean they had to stop being friends. He had to know his shunning her only made her hate and resent Callie even more. She starts to say something, then decides against it. She was too tired to deal with the argument that would ensue. One last glance in his direction, then, with a tired sigh, she exits the locker room. If anyone spoke to her on her walk to the parking lot, she didn't hear them. It was as though she had a one track mind. Home and bed.

As though they were entune, the car started the moment her cell phone rings. Meredith. A reminder that she wasn't going straight to bed. "Mere, I'm exhausted." She checks the rearview mirror before pulling out. Cursing as the sky opens up and rain starts to pour, she flicks her wipers on. "Yeah. I know. Oh, don't even. There is no way I am letting you guilt trip me into coming to Joe's. Right. Somehow I doubt that Alex's feelings are going to be hurt because I'm not there moping in the beer." Meredith rattles on, she only half listens. She would go. If for no other reason than to shut Meredith up. "Fine! I'll be there. Just let me turn around. No. I'll just take a shower later. Yes. I'm turning around right now. Bye!" Shaking her head, she looks down at her phone as she snaps it shut. Her head jerks up when a truck horn blares. Head lights glare through the windshield. Her eyes widen before the world goes black.


	2. Right Here

-1_The ache was dull at first. Just a low throbbing in the back of her head. Slowly, the throbbing seemed to radiate throughout her body. First, it made her shoulders heavy. Then it moved to her chest, constricting her breathing. Her limbs wanted to move but felt as though they were pinned. It was almost as though she was stuck in a mass of water, a rip tide pulling her under. She was defenseless to fight against it. Whatever it was, it had a hold on her. One it did not want to relinquish. It was the hand of death._

An intense light seemed to blind her for a moment as she tried to pry her eyes open. Everything looked to be coated in a white film. It was reminiscent of walking through a thick fog. Blinking, she lifts a hand to rub at the grit clouding her vision. The room cleared a bit, but was still less than living color.

Izzie blinks again. This wasn't her room. It was a room she knew. It just wasn't her's. A moment of panic seizes her as she tries to remember where she knew this room from. The wainscoted walls. The blue and green plaid comforter. She knew those. She knew this room. Her head jerks to the left as the comforter shifts and moves. Her heart starts to pound. Her fingers grip the edge of the thick blanket, the corded edge leaving an imprint on her palms.

Next to a man mumbles in his sleep. He is a familiar man. One she was close to. She didn't have to know his name to know that they were close.

_She is laying on a hospital bed, sobbing. The rose colored formal ball gown she is wearing seems out of place. The man she loved lay to the left of her, cold and dead. Her friends surrounded her, trying to get her to move. 'They' needed to take the body. _

_A man leans close to her, softly telling her that Denny was gone, and he wouldn't want her to be like this. He gently lifts her in his arms, sitting in a nearby chair. He rocks her slowly, his cheek pressed against her's. _

She looks down at the man, the same man who had held her when Denny had died. Alex.

"… _come hang out with Derek and me tonight.." The words were spoken by a slender waif with long dark blond hair and large blue eyes. She had also been in the room when Denny had died. _

"_Right playing third wheel to you and McDreamy is exactly how I want to spend my one and only night off." She herself had said that. Thoughts of being the third wheel hung over her. As well as the disturbing concept that she was pathetic. _

"_Alex will be there. We're just having drinks as Joe's," the friends pleads. "Come on. It'll be fun. Kind of like old times."_

_She hears herself agreeing to go. Just for one drink. _

'I must have had more than one drink,' Izzie muses to herself. It was the only explanation for why the world was coated in a fog and she was lying in bed next to Alex Karev. Not to mention she had no recollection of anything that had gone on. Just Meredith bugging her to meet them at Joe's. Meredith.

"_Eight O'clock?" Meredith was smiling at her. There was also a small amount of begging in her eyes. A plea for Izzie to show up at that time. _

_Izzie nods, smiling back. _

Some of the tension eases from her body. She must have met them there. At Joe's. Then had more to drink than she should have. It was the only explanation she had. For the odd dream. For the heaviness that weighed down her body. For waking up in bed with Alex. Her only calm in the storm was the fact that she still wore the white t shirt and faded jeans from the night before. They weren't as wrinkled as she would have thought. Come to think of it, they were not wrinkled at all.

Scooting carefully as to not wake Alex, she edges of the bed, her feet hitting the floor silently. She had expected some sort of thud as she was still wearing her tennis shoes. She frowns. Exactly how much had she had to drink the night before?

The sound of voices draws her into the kitchen. Meredith sits across the table from a striking man with intentionally mussed hair and deep blue eyes that seem to have the ability to look within the soul. They are laughing and feeding each other bits of bacon. The bacon is almost burnt and the smell of smoke lingers in the air.

"Good morning," Izzie smiles weakly, settling onto a stool that is next to the tiled kitchen island. Meredith smiles in her direction, then goes back to feeding the man broken off pieces of the charred bacon. "Wild night last night, huh?"

The man say something low, low enough that only Meredith hears. Meredith shrugs, looking in Izzie's direction. She frowns a bit, then look at the man. "Can we not talk about that right now Derek? I don't think…" Her voice broke off. There were tears running down her cheeks. The easy going smile that had been there a moment before was no where in sight.

"I know it isn't something you want to talk about. Or think about. If I…I'm sorry Meredith." Derek pulls her into his arms, holding her tight. He kisses her forehead. "We won't talk about it. I promise." He smoothes her hair back before dropping another kiss onto her brow.

"I'm sorry," Meredith sniffles. She rests her head against his shoulder, her face turned toward Izzie. There was such sadness written there. A sorrow deep rooted in the pale blue irises of her eyes. "I'm sorry," she says again, this time softly, barely above a whisper.

The couple sits there for a moment, holding one another. Several times Izzie had asked what was wrong. If she could do something to help. Each time she was greeted with silence. It was starting to upset her. What had happened last night? What were they not telling her? Why were they ignoring her? She wanted to scream. It was frustrating. So very frustrating.

Derek glances at the silver and gold watch on his wrist. He let's out what could only be described as a resigned sigh. "I have to go. Have an early surgery on the board."

Meredith nods. "If you don't mind, I'll just ride with you." She lifts the plate of half charred bacon and carries it to the trash can located just to the left of Izzie. Using her foot to press the lever, she dumps the contents of the plate inside, then sets the plate onto the island.

"Hey, if it isn't too much to ask, can you wait a few? I'll just go in with you." Izzie slides off the chair. Neither Derek nor Meredith acknowledge that they hear her. Instead, they walk from the room. She frowns as she hears the front door shut. "What happened?" She murmurs. She drops onto the chair Meredith had just vacated. Folding her arms on the table, she lays her face down, staring at the wood. There were scratches on the surface and it smelled of bacon grease. Lovely. The sound of the refridgerator opening causes her to raise up. Alex stood there, a carton of orange juice raised to her lips. "That's gross."

Alex goes still. His body seems to move in slow motion. He doesn't bother with one of his cocky comments. "What? So you're not talking to me either? What did I do? Did I sleep with George again or something?"

Orange juice spews from Alex's mouth. He stands there, with the sticky liquid running down his shirt. The carton of juice slips from his hands, splashing across the tiled floor. "You..you…"he stammers, his eyes wide.

Izzie frowns. There was fear. In Alex's eyes. She had never seen him afraid before. "Alex?" She stands up, walking toward him. He backs into the refridgerader, upsetting the contents on the shelf behind him. "Are you okay?"

"You can't be here. I'm just seeing things." The words were low, trembling. The fear from his eyes was laced in his voice. "It's lack of sleep. I haven't slept well. So..you're not here. I'm just…not fully awake."

"Alex! What is wrong with you?" Izzie crosses her arms. It wasn't funny. He was starting to scare her with his whole spill on her not really being there. She was there, dammit. Right in front of him. Standing there, her heart pounding. She was there!


	3. Stunned

-1The sound of juice hitting the floor echoes throughout the silent kitchen. Orange pulp drips from the still down turned container gripped in the right hand of a man stunned into silence. Alex. The man was Alex. Why was she having such a hard time remembering that? 'It was the alcohol. You drank to much and it's fried your brain. His to apparently,' she muses. Crossing her legs, she props an elbow on the edge of the table then cups her chin, staring at him. "I hope you're going to clean that up. And, you better get more some juice. You know how Meredith is."

"You…you're…" His words tripped over a tangled tongue. The caramel color of his iris was almost lost in the large black dilated pupil. The hand holding the carton tightens, crushing the plastic container. "You…you…"

"How much did you drink last night?" Perhaps he was still a bit drunk. Izzie could find no other explanation for Alex's odd behavior. Nor for the stuttering.

"I didn't have anything to drink last night. I don't think," Alex edged away from the spilled juice. His arm arched in the arm as he tossed the empty carton into the trashcan on the other side of the tiled island. It hit the rim, hesitated, then fell in. "This is a dream, right? I'm still asleep. Cause I haven't been sleeping well and it would make sense that you would haunt my dreams."

Izzie frowns, her arm falling flat across the edge of the table, her spine straightening as she uncrosses her legs. Her gaze continues to linger on him; searching for some sort of answer to the questions running rampant in her mind. She wanted demand that the nonsense stop, that whatever joke they were all playing it wasn't funny anymore. "You're not funny." Rising from her seat, she starts to storm from the room. Before she reaches the door she turns to face Alex once more. "What did I ever do to you guys to make you treat me like this? Meredith ignores me, and you act like I'm not suppose to be here. If I've dome something, don't you think I at least deserve to know what it is?"

The muscles in Alex's jaw clench and unclench. "You're really here aren't you?" Any anger she might have been about to unleash on him for even asking such a question dissolved when she noticed the seriousness on his face. "Oh man…this is…" He walks toward her, stopping a mere inch away. One hand raises up, the fingers trembling slightly. Her frown deepens when his palm hovers near her cheek. An odd tingling ricochets through her body the closer his hand drew to her face. It seemed to be taking him forever to touch her. It was just a simple touch. His hand upon her cheek. She starts to bark out her impatience but the blanched look upon his face stops her. It was in that moment she realized his hand was touching it. Or would have been. If it hadn't gone straight through her….


End file.
